


I Only Wanna Be With You

by flippyspoon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 90's AU, College AU, Fluff, Harringroveweekoflove, M/M, Romance, coffee shop AU, loveweekifao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 09:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17743595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon
Summary: Billy is absolutely not going to fall for the yuppie kid in the GAP jeans who loves Hootie and the Blowfish and Steve is absolutely not going to fall for the bitchy barista who loves Guns N' Roses. Absolutely not.





	I Only Wanna Be With You

_University of California, Los Angeles_

_ 1994 _

 

The coffeehouse was called Caligari's and it was hip and it had funky art on its colorfully painted walls and lots of big, plush comfy chairs but best of all it was close to campus and seeing as how Steve had not yet the time or inclination to venture far beyond UCLA’s borders, it was just what he needed. 

There were two other coffee houses close to campus, the problem being that Nancy frequented one of them and the other one was always crowded.

Steve was in line thinking about his Economics class and hoping the awkwardness with Nancy wouldn’t be weird enough to stop her helping him with the next exam. If anything, she owed him one, he thought. 

It was his turn to order and he stepped up to the counter and froze for a second.

The barista was a guy with the most startlingly beautiful blue eyes Steve had ever seen.

“What’ll it be, pretty boy?” The barista said.

“Large…” The “pretty boy” registered and Steve forgot his order. “Um. Mocha. Mocha, please. Extra whipped cream.”

“Extra _cream_ ,” the guy said. He was wearing a Guns n’ Roses shirt. He had a mass of curly, blond hair down his back. Total metalhead. 

“Whipped cream,” Steve specified.

“Whatever you say,” he said, jotting it down. “Two-fifty. Name?”

“Steve Harrington.” He flushed a little. A last name really wasn’t necessary for coffee.

“Haaarrington...” the barista said, drawing it out as he wrote the entire thing down.

Steve slid a five across the counter and when handed the change he dropped it in the tip jar.

“Thanks,” the guy said, tossing him a nod. 

Steve blinked at him. “Uh huh.”

Steve spun on his heel and lugged his backpack over to a free table and sat down to catch his breath.

Behind the counter the hot barista shouted into the kitchen, “Hey! Tommy! You gonna brew up the ice coffee or are you gonna be an asshole about it! Can we change this Beck shit already? I’m gonna cut my fucking ears off!”

Steve tried to focus on Econ. and could not stop thinking about the hot and apparently hot-headed metal barista until suddenly there he was with a giant cappuccino cup heaped with whipped cream. 

Unfortunately he appeared just as Steve was standing up to untangle the earphones caught on his belt loop and knocked into the barista who caught his arm just as Steve started to trip, only spilling a couple drips of mocha.

“Jesus,” the barista said. “Plant your feet, Harrington.”

Steve pursed his lips and sat and the barista set the drink down in front of him. “Thanks.”

So much for smooth.

* * *

“I think I’m bi,” Steve said later that evening to Jonathan. “And over Nancy, I’m definitely over Nancy.”

“This is the part where I pretend I’m not the one dating Nancy?” Jonathan said, chopsticks full of chow mein as they sat on his futon in the dorm. The door was open, people kept popping in and out, mainly to ask if Jonathan had any weed. Jonathan was blasting Pixies, nodding along to it.

“It would help, yeah,” Steve said.

“This is also the part where I pretend you haven’t told me you think you’re bi about twenty times?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re bi.”

“Right.”

“So who is he?” Jonathan said, slurping up his noodles.

“You ever go to Caligari's?”

“Sure, sometimes,” Jonathan said.

“There’s this barista. Metal dude. Long blonde hair. Insanely blue eyes. Pretty buff. Very buff. Really very pretty and buff.”

“ _Hargrove_?” Jonathan said.

“You know him?” Steve’s eyes lit up.

“Billy Hargrove. I’ve sold him weed a couple times,” Jonathan said. “He’s an English major. On scholarship. Kind of a dick.”

“Yeah, he seems like one.” Steve shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well, go for it then,” Jonathan said. “Go bone a dude.”

“I don’t know _how_ ,” Steve said, throwing up his hands. He sighed and poked at his orange chicken.

“Do...you want some literature on homosexual sex?” Jonathan said. “Because I can get you some from the student health center-”

“No! _No_. Not that, I mean I dunno how to make a move,” Steve said. “On a guy.”

“Steve...I’ve literally never seen you leave a party without a girl,” Jonathan said. “I’ve barely seen you leave class without a girl.”

“Yeah, but they were _girls_. I dunno how it works with guys. Besides, what if he’s straight?”

Jonathan snorted a laugh while attempting to take a bite of chow mein and coughed so hard he had to take a swallow of his Snapple. “Hargrove?” Jonathan said, still coughing. “Incredibly not straight.”

“Oh!” Steve nodded, feeling a little warm. “Okay. Great. You’re sure?”

“Oh yeah,” Jonathan said, tossing his now empty chow mein carton in the trash. “He always has some guy hanging all over him. Last time he scored some weed, they were practically humping in front of me.”

“Oh… Maybe he has a boyfriend,” Steve said darkly.  
“I don’t think he does boyfriends.”  
“Ah.” Steve nodded. “Okay. Well, that’s probably good. I don’t feel like getting into something serious anyway.”  
“Right,” Jonathan said sagely. “Just no strings.”

“ _No_ strings,” Steve said, emphasizing his point with a fork.

* * *

Billy was smoking in the alley behind Caligari's and thinking of Harrington again. It had been a whole three days since Billy had sold a slightly flustered boy named Steve Harrington a mocha (extra whipped cream) and Billy still had him on his mind, in between thoughts on his still unfinished paper on Derrida vs. Joyce yadda yadda and his upcoming Survey of Shakespeare exam. That was bad, that was terrible. It had been such a minor encounter. The guy hadn’t even flirted, was probably straight. But he had been so fucking pretty with his giant, brown eyes and stupid, floppy hair. He’d been wearing _khakis_. Billy was turned on by a guy wearing _khakis_ and a freaking chambray button down over a crisp white t-shirt. Steve Harrington had been dressed like somebody perhaps legally obligated to shop only at The Gap. He probably listened to Hootie & the Blowfish. He probably loved _Melrose Place_ like Billy’s annoying dorm-mate. He was probably a good kisser with that pretty plush mouth too and he probably fluttered his big brown eyes when he came.

Billy exhaled into the alley. “Goddammit.”

The night after that fateful day Steve had walked into Caligari's, Billy had been desperate enough to call up Byers, his favored weed dealer on campus, and ask if he knew Harrington. Byers had laughed which startled Billy. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Byers laugh before.

“Yeah, I know him,” Byers had said. “We’re from the same town, went to school together. Didn’t exactly hang out then. He was a douchebag jock.”

Billy had grinned at that. He liked the idea of that sweet looking prep with the heartbreaker eyes having been a fellow douchebag jock.

“So...what else do you know about him?” Billy had said, twirling the phone cord around his fingers, hunched up in the corner of his bed, trying to remember every detail of Steve Harrington. At one point he’d looked over and seen him licking a dollop of whipped cream from his finger and it had killed him a little.

“In high school they called him King Steve,” Byers had said. “He played basketball, of course. Um...he’s a business major but he’s not into it. I keep telling him to find something he likes. _And_...he asked about you.”

“He what,” Billy had said flatly. Just sitting there on his bed, he’d gotten a little dizzy. He didn’t get this way about guys. He found somebody hot, he went for it with an indomitable sense of his own power, and he conquered.

“Yeah,” Byers had said. “I really don’t like to get in anybody’s business usually. But Steve’s a friend and I know he’d be um...pretty _psyched_ that you’re asking about him so… Green light.”

“Right…” Billy’s cheeks had gone red hot. He’d felt a little feverish. “So since you know him so well, tell him to stop by Caligari's, yeah? I work evenings usually.”

“Will do.”

That had been two days ago and Steve Harrington had yet to show up. Yet instead of immediately thinking “fuck that guy,” Billy found himself mooning over him. He felt like an idiot.

He could kick himself for not having made a move in the first place. He hadn’t been hesitant like that since freshman year of high school before he’d really started filling out. Instead he’d stayed behind his counter, constantly looking over to catch a peak at Steve, hunched over a textbook but just as often staring out the window. Billy kept wondering how soft his hair was.

“Idiot,” Billy muttered, and stubbed out his cigarette before going back inside.

Billy kept an eye out for the rest of the day and still no Steve Harrington.

The next day it rained and Billy finished his Derrida paper in the library before his shift, sitting by the window, and occasionally thinking he saw Steve’s floppy head in the stacks. But no love.

He arrived at work damp and irritated and got revenge on the world in general by blasting Nine Inch Nails.

He was fighting a losing battle with the filter in one of the espresso machines when Tommy kicked his boot.

“Your new boyfriend’s here,” Tommy said, sneering a little.

Billy fumbled with the filter and flinched, annoyed at his own nerves. “Fuck off.”

“Okay, I’ll take his order then.” Tommy started to turn around and Billy yanked him back and shoved him towards the back room. 

“I said fuck off,” Billy said loftily. Tommy snorted at that and blew into the back room.

Billy caught his own reflection in the espresso machine and gave himself a once over, fiddling with his hair. At least he was dry now from the rain, his hair tended to frizz. 

_I will conquer_ , Billy thought, nodding to himself before spinning around to face Harrington.

Steve was not dry, Steve was all wet as he stood at the counter, frowning and pushing back his hair, a stubborn, dripping lock continually falling over his eye. He wore a big grey hooded sweatshirt. His lips were bright pink and swollen from the cold and wet. He looked really annoyed too. And very cute.

The coffee shop was pretty empty. No one else was willing to brave the rain, Billy supposed, and everything felt charged as they stood with the counter between them. The CD had ended and all he could hear was the pouring rain outside and the little drips from Steve’s hair falling to the counter. 

“Um.” Steve was futzing with his sweatshirt. “Can I get a...mocha?”

Billy leaned on the counter and locked eyes with Steve. “Extra... _cream_?” He smiled slow, knowing just how it looked.

“Whipped, uh...whipped cream,” Steve said, and cleared his throat.

“Sure.” Billy just leaned on the counter, refusing to write anything down. He was wearing one of his Henleys. He knew how good he looked in a nice tight Henley and judging by the roaming of Steve’s eyes, he agreed. 

All at once Steve dropped his backpack and took off his wet sweatshirt, further upsetting his mess of dark hair. He threw it down atop his backpack like it was a challenge and Billy swallowed a laugh. His black t-shirt was damp too and he shivered slightly as he braced his hands on the counter and stared at Billy.

“You got anything special on the menu?” Steve said.

Billy stuck his tongue between his teeth. 

This was going to be fun, he thought.

“Lemon sugar cookies,” Billy said softly.

Steve licked his lips and said, “Are they good?”

“I dunno. Let’s see.” Billy took the plate out of cookies out of the baked goods display case and set it on the counter and keeping his eyes fixed on Steve, he nibbled on a cookie with as much seductiveness as possible. He watched Steve’s lips part and something about the way his mouth moved or maybe the way his damp hair curled from under his ear gave Billy a strange sensation as if the floor had just dropped out and he was off kilter suddenly. He dropped his eyes.

Steve said, “Sure. I’ll take some cookies.”

Billy rang him up, frowning a little. He felt like his mojo was slipping away. Maybe his mojo had already slipped away once he’d thought to miss some random but cute yuppie business major…

_Fuck_.

“I’ll bring it right out,” Billy said. The game had been forgotten and Steve frowned a little and nodded. Billy watched him spin around and drag his stuff to a chair by the windows. He wished time would slow down so he could properly enjoy the curve of that ass, although-

“Fuckin’ guys wear their jeans too loose these days,” Billy muttered, and sighed, a little grief-stricken.

He had not had a chance to inspect the frontside package yet because he’d been staring at Steve’s mouth.

_I’m losing my mind_ , he thought.

Customers walked in and Billy had an urge to kick them out for the crime of taking him away from the prospect of Steve Harrington. Instead he dutifully took orders (though he was as rude as he could possibly get away with) and went about making Steve’s mocha. He tossed the other orders to Tommy in the back and took Steve’s mocha to his table, sitting down across from him as if they were buddies. Steve watched him with big wary eyes as he swallowed a bite of lemon sugar cookie.

Billy crossed his arms and leaned forward on the table. “So you’re a business major.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Byers.”

He watched the corner of Steve’s pretty mouth turn up a little. “You ask about me?”

“Did you ask about _me_?”

Steve grinned and said, “Did you ask about me _first_?”

“Now how should I know?” But he said it with a smile and took a cookie from Steve’s plate.

“I didn’t know what else to major in,” Steve said. He ran his finger around the rim of his mocha. His fingers were long, Billy noticed. He clenched his fist under the table. His own hands were squarish and rough. He’d never really thought about it before. But Steve’s hands were sort of beautiful...yet still masculine…

“Billy?” Steve said.

“Huh?”

“I said, I don’t hate business. What’s your major?” Steve said, smiling. “Unless you...just want to stare at my hands some more.”

“Oh…” Billy’s ears felt hot and he hoped his hair was covering them. “I wasn’t-”

“Sure.” Steve looked smug and the sudden confidence took a little of Billy’s breath away.

_They called him King Steve_ , Jonathan had said.

_Oh_.

“English lit,” Billy said. He scratched his head, hoping for a return of that mojo, and shrugged, attempting to look careless. The truth was that literature meant a lot to him. It had been a constant escape in a continually shitty childhood and chaotic adolescence.  But he hadn’t yet figured out why that wasn’t a little embarrassing. “I dunno. Seemed to piss my dad off.”

“Always a worthy goal,” Steve said dryly. He took a sip of mocha and it left a trace of whipped cream along his upper lip. 

“Um…” Billy reached up and too gently wiped the cream away with his finger. It should’ve been smooth. He was good at smooth. But he didn’t _feel_ smooth now and it was starting to piss him off. He sat back and crossed his arms, feeling defensive. “Anyway, pretty boy. Midwestern rich kid, right? Big fish, small pond? How’s it feel to put the glory days behind ya?” It was mean and totally self-defeating but…

“Glory days?” Steve said, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, ya know. _King_ Steve and what not.” Billy licked his teeth and bared them just a little. “Byers told me that too.”

Steve tipped his head and laughed breathily. “You know, I didn’t realize how stupid that shit was until I lost it. Long story. Anyway, it’s a big ass pond now. Getting used to it.” Steve smiled easy, like nothing was wrong at all and Billy wondered just how good he’d at it. 

“Do you work?” Billy said, scowling.

“No.”

Billy snorted and shook his head.

“Hey, I mean you called it. My parents have money. They were just happy I got in somewhere.”

“I worked my ass off for scholarships and I still have to work,” Billy muttered, scratching a bit of gunk off the table. He thought Steve flushed a little at that. It shut him up too, and he sipped his mocha, looking away from Billy and reaching up to fidget with his lips, staring out the window at the rain.

Billy felt (maybe) just a little bit bad and said, “Good thing you’re so pretty then,” and smiled when he said it. Steve still looked put off and Billy grimaced. 

_Good job, dumbass_.

“Hey.” Billy reached over and attempted a little stroke of Steve’s arm with his thumb. “Sorry, I came in a little hot.” He smiled, trying for charm.

“You _are_ kind of a dick, aren’t you?” Steve said.

“Should’ve met me when I was seventeen,” Billy said.

“Yikes.”

Billy snorted at that and nodded to the door. “Wanna go smoke for a second?”

“It’s raining.”

“There’s an overhang,” Billy said. He sounded, he thought, much too eager. “In the alley. Tommy’ll watch your stuff.”

“Okay.” 

“TOMMY, MAKE SURE NOBODY STEALS HARRINGTON’S SHIT!” Billy hollered vaguely in the direction of the kitchen and he waited to follow Steve who pushed his hair back and breathed in a little as he passed. Steve smelled like CK One. Of course.

In the alley Steve leaned on the brick wall and his eyes looked Billy up and down. “ _I_ can be kind of a dick,” Steve said.

“I doubt that,” Billy said, lighting a cigarette. He gave Steve the first drag.

“You don’t know,” Steve said, biting his lip, looking a little cheeky.

“You have sweetheart oozing out of your pores,” Billy said, watching Steve, leaning in just a little but maybe not enough that Steve would notice.

“Doesn’t sound very sexy,” Steve mumbled, exhaling through his nose. He handed over the smoke.

“If it sounds like I don’t think you’re sexy…” Billy inhaled deep and let Steve hang on the line for a second. He exhaled out the side of his mouth and his lips curved upwards. “Then I’m saying it wrong.”

Steve’s mouth made a little “oh” and he sighed. “I’m… I don’t… I haven’t… I’m...bi. But I haven’t-”

“You haven’t fucked a guy.”

“Nope.”

Billy leaned in very deliberately now and on faith, he dropped their barely smoked cigarette in the rain. “Have you kissed a guy?” He said, dropping his voice a couple octaves.

“No…” Steve said, his eyes on Billy’s mouth.

“Well, in a couple seconds you won’t be able to say that anymore,” Billy said, and went in and paused, barely brushing Steve’s lips with his own, and it probably seemed like a sweet little kiss except that Billy had intended to plunder and his lips betrayed him, perhaps shocked by the sudden pleasing sweetness of that sensation alone. Steve’s mouth parted just a little and warm lips that tasted like lemon, mocha, and rain kissed him, tentative. Billy plainly forgot to dominate like usual, because Steve’s mouth was _soft_ and his tongue was… Billy didn’t know what word he would choose to describe it as his brain felt a bit floaty and he was too aware of Steve hands at his hips, the feel of long fingers pressing his stomach through the henley.

Steve’s kiss was...

_Subtle_?  
Steve kissed like he was confident but not in the way Billy wielded confidence. He kissed like he was in no rush because more kisses were certainly ahead of him. He took his time to taste Billy’s bottom lip, to touch his tongue to Billy’s as if merely saying hello, to lean back and kiss only the corner of his mouth. Billy found himself seeking, his hands coming up to clutch at Steve’s shoulders. He was supposed to be the one who knew what he was doing. This was not fair at all.

_More, more, gimme more_ , Billy thought, chasing Steve’s mouth for he didn’t know how long. Wind was blowing rain at them and he shivered.

_Foreplay._ Billy finally thought. _Shit_.

“You’re a…” Billy broke away, dazzled, unsteady. “A tease. Or...something.”

Steve chuckled at that and said, “Always leave em’ wanting more.”

“You’re right, you’re kind of a dick sometimes,” Billy said, and half leaned on the wall because he didn’t feel firm on his feet. “You always kiss like that?”

Steve smiled, sly. He shook his head.

_I’ll show him_ , Billy thought, and on impulse he kissed Steve like he’d intended to, pressing him against the wall, meeting Steve’s tongue with his own and chasing it, his teeth grazing Steve’s lower lip. He felt Steve’s hands sliding up his back, his tight shirt damp now from the rain as Steve tugged at it. 

“Oh,” Steve said softly when they parted. “Um… What time do you get off?”

Billy kissed him firmly once more, delighted now at the dazed expression on Steve’s face. “I get off _work_ at ten,” Billy said, low and breathy. “And I get off with you right after.”

“Heh.” Steve nodded, grinning. “Cocky.”

“Uh huh.” Billy nosed along Steve’s cheek. “Am I wrong?”

He felt Steve tense and just quickly relax before he said, “Nope.”

“Hey, loverboy.” That was Tommy leaning out the door, glaring at Billy. “You want to like… I don’t know, make some coffee?”

Billy grunted and made a point of making out with Steve for a bit before he relented. Steve did not complain and Billy didn’t miss the long and sneaky fingers pushing up the hem of his shirt, pressing at his stomach. Steve’s hands were cold and Billy shivered as Steve promised to meet Billy after closing.

“Now go back to work, slacker,” Steve said, smirking as he leaned away from a kiss.

“Ladies first?” Billy snarked.

“No thanks.” Steve crossed his arms. “I want to watch you walk away.”

Billy made sure to walk with a little swing in his step.

* * *

Steve hung out Caligari's for another two hours until he’d finally taken Billy away from his work so entirely that Tommy insisted he leave. He headed off to the library, barely noticing the steady drizzle. He was almost run over crossing a road, so distracted by the thought of Billy’s kisses as he walked along. But it was more than that and he hadn’t expected anymore than that. Billy was hot, sure, but he was also funny and smart and interesting and kind of an asshole and way too competitive and...Steve wanted to _know_ him, having gotten only a taste.

At the library, Steve sat by a window and failed to study, staring out at the rain and wondering what it would feel like with Billy on top of him, that dense brickhouse body pressing against him and that snarky, wicked mouth on his. He managed some stats homework because math always seemed to clear his head and he studied a bit before thoughts of Billy’s husky laugh invaded again and he imagined Billy dropping to his knees and sucking him off. That made him hard, which wasn’t any good in the library and he groaned into his hand, sinking down into his chair. He tried to think of anything else that would turn him off; his economic theory professor, the music of Kenny G….

_“You always kiss like that?”_

Steve finally hopped to his feet, and holding one of his own books in front of his crotch, he went to the men’s room and jerked off, feeling kind of disgusting as he bit his knuckles and thought of Billy’s mouth on him and what Billy’s ass would feel like in his hands.

He had promised to come back to Caligari's at closing, after ten. He made it to 9:30 before he found himself trudging back across campus, the rain pouring down again. Of course, he had no umbrella. 

He couldn’t remember ever being so horny before that he was willing to risk pneumonia. 

It was twenty minutes until Caligari's closed and Steve felt ridiculous once he got there. He went around to the alley by the dumpster, finding a bit of cover from an awning, though he was already soaked to the skin so it hardly mattered.

He felt stupid and turned on and nervous because he hadn’t expected to really _like_ Billy the metalhead barista and now Billy would think he was a desperate idiot…

He stood outside for how long he didn’t know and didn’t even notice the grumbling and footsteps behind him.

“Harrington?”

Steve spun around, idly wondering if his books were all wet inside his backpack now. He was shuddering, his teeth chattering. He was sure he looked like a wet rat.

Billy had a funny smile on his face. He was holding two big bags of garbage and now he threw open the dumpster and tossed them in. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Oh um…” Steve shrugged and it probably looked funny because he was shuddering so hard from the rain. This was Los Angeles. Was it supposed to rain this hard? “Waiting for you to close up?”

“It’s...a little dryer inside?” Billy said, pushing back his own damp hair. Steve squinted and the light from the shop’s neon sign showed raindrops on Billy’s eyelashes; thick, dark blonde lustrous eyelashes. He’d never noticed eyelashes on a dude before.

“Yeah,” Steve said. 

Billy laughed at that and swaggered over to him, pulling him forward by his sweatshirt. “Come inside, pretty boy.” 

Steve followed Billy inside and stood, shivering in the middle of the coffee house while Billy turned the Open sign over to Closed even though it was too early, because the place was empty anyway and even Tommy had gone home. Steve was cold and drenched and he dropped his backpack on the floor, wondering how warm Billy’s hands might be. He followed Billy into the backroom and waited by the steel fridge, watching Billy pack his stuff into a backpack and put coffee and milk away. Billy bent over to pick a rag up off the floor and the pleasing tightness of his ass made Steve’s mouth water. Billy spun around, tossing the rag on a counter and looked Steve up and down.

“You’re dripping on the floor,” Billy said, smiling slowly as he ambled over. “What were you doing out there?”

“I dunno, I got here early and then I felt stupid getting here early.” Steve was sure he was blushing. Or maybe not- he was probably pale with cold, he was probably awful looking 

“Couldn’t get enough of me?” Billy said, smirking like it was some big joke.

“No,” Steve said, leveling Billy with his gaze. “I couldn’t. I jerked off at the library thinking of your mouth on my dick.”

Billy’s eyes went a little wide at that and he stepped forward, close enough to kiss. He reached up and traced his thumb along Steve’s bottom lip and he sighed at the contact. “Where’d you come from?” “Indiana. I told you,” Steve said and parted his lips just a little, tasting Billy’s thumb with his tongue.

“No,” Billy muttered, stepping in so close that Steve felt heat radiating off of him and wondered if they would start to steam. “You’re from outer space or something.”

Steve smiled at that and leaned forward, closing his eyes when Billy’s lips faintly brushed his. He shuddered and whispered, “I’m cold.”

“Uh, I’ll get you a towel,” Billy said, and started to move.

“No! That’s not what I meant.” Steves stripped off his sweatshirt and his shirt, his clothes so heavy with rainwater they splatted on the floor before he fisted Billy’s Henley in his hands and tugged him forward, kissing him hungrily. “Touch me. _Please_.”

Billy complied before Steve was done speaking and suddenly hot, rough hands were sliding up his the cool, wet skin of his back; a heated streak that left Steve clenching his fists as he gripped Billy’s shirt and shoved him back against the fridge. Steve kissed Billy with an abandon he’d held back earlier in the day. He felt desperate, as if at any moment he might lose his chance to feel those pretty red lips and stubbled cheek that scraped pleasingly against his own. He slid his lips along that stubble and followed it to Billy’s throat. As much as he’d thought about being with a boy before, he’d never imagined how delicious a stubbled throat was to kiss and lick and he mouthed his way down to Billy’s neck and sucked a kiss there. Billy’s hand found its way into it Steve’s jeans and he groaned at the mere implication even before those warm, rough fingers found his cock.

“That doesn’t feel cold,” Billy whispered in his ear, and Steve could feel his smile. 

“Yes,” Steve breathed, and Billy’s hand wrapped around him so that he fell against Billy, pressing his hands to the muscles hiding under that clinging Henley. He swelled in Billy’s hand and they kissed, Steve whimpering into Billy’s mouth. “God…” Steve murmured. “I am so bi.”

Billy chuckled and Steve felt the delightful shiver of Billy’s muscles under his fingers. Then Billy was spinning them around to push Steve against the cold, unforgiving steel of the fridge, kissing his way down the column of Steve’s throat, his tongue making a hot, wet line down to Steve’s chest as he slowly sank to his knees.

“Do you like to do this?” Steve said. He’d always wanted to try it himself and for a long time had considered it some kind of character flaw, but watching Billy kneeling, his bright eyes fixed on Steve as he scrambled to unzip Steve’s fly, he felt as if he’d been duped since perhaps puberty.

Billy smiled slyly as he slowly pulled down Steve’s jeans and his briefs with them. “I _love_ a cock in my mouth,” Billy said. “I bet yours is real pretty too. Feels huge.”

Steve blushed at that. “Oh...well…”

“ _Oh_.” Billy blinked, his lips parted as he stared at Steve’s cock that bobbed, fully erect and pink and rather cheerful looking. Billy’s hands gripped Steve’s hips and his thumbs dug into the grooves that made a soft V. He stared at Steve’s dick so long that Steve started to self-conscious. He’d never had any complaints before outside of a couple girls seeming nervous at his size. Billy looked up at him and whispered, “It’s beautiful.”

“Um. Okay. I mean thanks.”

“No really. This is like...the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen.”

Billy’s mouth was so close and yet Steve’s dick bobbed, the chill air of the unheated backroom threatening to flag a promising erection. But Steve didn’t want to be rude and said, “I’m glad you like it?”

Steve didn’t have long to be impatient because Billy ducked his head and all at once began to suck Steve’s cock with abandon. He was clearly trying, for a moment, to work up to it, kissing and licking at Steve’s pretty dick to drive him crazy, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself guiding Steve’s cock into his mouth, stroking him at his base and fondling his balls as he Hoovered away like Steve’s cock might contain a tonic that granted immortality. A frisson of pleasure that felt something like a prologue of an orgasm ran through Steve and with one hand he gripped the edge of the fridge behind him, while with the other he grabbed Billy’s head, trying not to pull or push. Billy didn’t seem to care about prolonging the event or perhaps he was just too caught up in it himself as his gaze rose to meet Steve’s. The eye contact about did Steve in and he bit hard on his lips, clenching his fists, trying to make himself last as long as possible. He thought he held out a decent amount of time considering, until Billy sucked in his cheeks, Steve’s cock hitting the back of his throat, as he dug his nails into Steve’s ass all at the same time. The slight pain and pleasure made Steve see stars and he had no warning as he came in Billy’s mouth, crying out. Billy seemed to choke for a moment and caught himself, swallowing like a champion, milking Steve’s dick as he quivered.

Steve tucked himself away with shaking hands and leaned against the fridge, feeling boneless, as Billy got to his feet. “I usually take a little more time,” Billy said, looking almost sheepish. He dug a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and his Zippo flicked as he lit up. “But your dick really got me going.”

“Your mouth,” Steve muttered. “Holy shit.”

“Glad you enjoyed yourself,” Billy said, and Steve turned to face him. He took a drag and then stuck the cigarette in Steve’s mouth and waited for him to inhale. 

Steve stared at him, as if getting his bearings, and finally took a drag, the cigarette bobbing comically between his lips. Billy watched the cigarette burn, amused, and reached down to let his hand wander behind Steve’s back, his fingers delighted to play along the cool skin that covered muscle and bone.

“You wanna go to the movies?” Steve said around the smoke. “Friday?”

“I don’t do boyfriends, Harrington,” Billy said.

Steve felt a jolt of embarrassment and abruptly backpedaled, taking the cigarette from his mouth. “No yeah, I just meant to hang out. I got studying and shit anyway. But you’re coming over tonight, yeah?”

Billy unclenched now and leaned into Harrington again, all boyfriend talk forgotten. “Oh yeah. Just gotta stop by my place first. We haven’t even begun, baby.”

_Nancy ruined me_ , he thought. Following their break-up, Steve had been doing more than okay rebounding with anyone who looked twice at him or even looked once. But he couldn’t remember how to handle it when he actually liked a person. He couldn’t remember how casual worked now. It used to be, even when thought somebody was worthwhile for a minute, he’d forget their name by the next week.

He missed that ability.

And looking into Billy’s dreamy eyes, he wished he wanted to forget Billy’s name.

* * *

Billy shifted from foot to foot in front of Steve Harrington’s door and willed his heart to stop racing.

He had fucked up already. He had told Steve he didn’t do boyfriends, which had historically been both true and a measure of self-preservation. Except that now a boy who seemed both sweet and a little bit sharp and who had big, dumb doe eyes had asked him to go to the movies and he felt like the biggest chump in the world for saying no...even though he was guaranteed to get laid tonight. He could get laid with no strings. That was good, that was always good...right?

His own feelings made no sense to him. Usually his feelings were blunt and easily explained. Steve Harrington was already making things complicated and Billy had only just met him.

His step-sister Max had recently told him that he’d become a pretty good guy and a good brother and that he deserved a cute boyfriend who would be nice to him. Max was never so sweet. She’d only bummed him out. The very idea of what she’d said he deserved seemed utterly impossible and maybe he thought so because his father had drilled it into his head that he didn’t deserve very much, but that didn’t make it feel less true.

Billy shook his head, willing the thoughts away, and rapped on the door. Steve threw the door open on Billy’s third knock and if Billy hadn’t known better he would’ve sworn Steve had already been fucked; his hair was a gorgeous mess, his lips were swollen, his cheeks pink. 

He was, once again, not wearing a shirt, leaning on the door in a much better pair of black jeans that showed off that big package as well as the soft V of his hips.

Billy heard Hootie and the Blowfish playing and realized that even Hootie and the Blowfish was not enough to stop him falling swiftly for Steve Harrington. He inwardly cursed fate. The apartment behind Steve looked like something from _Friends_ ; bigger and nicer than should have been possible for a college student. There was a foosball table next to the kitchen. The couch was a huge black leather monstrosity. There was a framed _Top Gun_ poster on the wall and Billy wondered how Steve hadn’t realized he liked dudes when he had a _Top Gun_ post on his wall.

“Hello, handsome,” Steve said, smooth as ice.

Billy started to open his mouth, ready with a line, and didn’t get it out because Steve was already yanking him inside by his collar, covering Billy’s with his.

Billy kicked the door shut behind him and threw his arms around Steve who was now warm and reeked even more strongly of CK One. Billy dreaded that he would now probably get hard in the middle of Macy’s every time he smelled the damn thing. 

“I jacked off twice,” Steve mumbled against Billy’s lips. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I just saw you an hour ago,” Billy said, chuckling, as Steve tugged at his shirt and helped him strip it off.

“I know but…” Whatever else Steve had been going to say was lost now as he fell backwards onto his couch and let Billy climb on top of him between his legs. Steve hands snuck down the back of Billy’s jeans, palming his ass and Billy ground into Steve and went for his neck, licking and nipping to his heart’s content. 

Steve felt so good against him. Their bodies seemed to fit together, Billy thought distantly. Billy sucked a kiss to Steve’s collarbone and maybe whimpered a little because Steve was playing with his hair even as his fingers raked his back and the combination was new and apparently making him melt and get very hard very fast.

“I gotta ask you something,” Steve said, his voice soft and cracking. Billy sat up a little and fixed Steve with his best bedroom eyes. He nodded, encouraging, and kissed him once more before Steve spoke. “I don’t know else to put this… What’s it feel like to get fucked?”

“Well…” Billy said, and dimly thought it was a miracle he still pursued sex with men considering some of his own past experiences. “Depends on who’s doin’ the fuckin’.”

“But it hurts, right?” Steve said, stiffening slightly. 

Billy, who had not always been the gentlest lover himself, partly due to the bad examples he had first been set, now leaned back to look on Harrington who gazed up at him with wide eyes and a mouth that demanded to be licked and bit and wrapped around a dick. 

Steve was a sweetheart who inexplicably seemed to like _him_ of all people. That did not compute and would not last long, Billy was sure. Billy, who had been in pursuit of only his own pleasure (and only occasionally gotten it) with anyone he took to bed now said to Steve, “If you want me to fuck you, pretty boy, I’ll make sure it’s good for you. I’ll take care of you.” The words weren’t too bad but he _sounded_ like he was begging for a favor and he looked down at Steve’s chest, one nipple already shiny where Billy had sucked at it.

“Um,” Steve said, “o-okay yeah, I mean...I also want to...like I’d like to do you to but I didn’t know if… And I didn’t know which way you uh...like it?”

Billy spent Steve’s ramble laying soft kisses along Steve’s throat and when he was finally done talking simply said, “I love getting fucked, honestly. But I wouldn’t turn your ass down for anything.” His hands went to the ass in question, plunging under the waistband of Steve’s jeans and beneath his Calvins to grasp at two satisfying globes. “Besides, I’m guessing this ass is a goddamn pleasure palace.”

Steve snorted a laugh at that and bit his lip, wrapping his legs around Billy. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmm…” Billy, lost to the general everything about Steve couldn’t think of a single comeback and only shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

* * *

Billy could not remember the last time he’d actually been nervous in bed but now he tried valiantly to cover and was grateful that Steve could not currently see his face.

“How’s that feel?” Billy whispered, as his slick finger eased its way into Steve’s ass once again.  Steve was finally relaxing a little bit but Billy still felt some tension in his body.

“Weird,” Steve said. “It doesn’t hurt. Just feels really weird.”

“Mmm.” Billy kissed Steve’s shoulder and eased a second lubed up finger inside and felt Steve begin to tense up a little more. “Relax, sweetheart,” Billy purred. “Easy.”

He wanted to eat Steve’s ass so badly his mouth was watering but he’d felt a bout of nerves about it suddenly. This was down to two guys he’d been with who’d reacted with disgust at the very idea. It was a shame; Steve’s ass was round and just a bit plush, just enough of a bubble to make Billy want to sink his teeth in. 

His cock was aching to sink its way into Steve but went as slow as he could stand as they lay spooning on the bed. Billy moved his fingers lazily, as if he was happy just to be wandering around inside Steve with no further thought and it did seem to make Steve unclench a little more as Billy sweetly kissed his back.

Steve almost sounded sleepy and murmured, “Mmm, feels kinda...nice actually…” Billy hooked his fingers and prayed to the gods of prostates as he made a practiced move with his hands and all at once Steve gasped and fisted the sheets.

“Oh...oh God, Billy,” Steve hissed and Billy stroked that magical place, smirking to himself as Steve moaned and writhed, easing a third finger. “Wait wait wait,” Steve said. “Fuck me now, please, I mean with your dick, c’mon, man…”

Steve _felt_ loosened enough and Billy said a second prayer to both the gods of prostates and to a few actual saints he recalled from his Catholic upbringing and was mildly surprised at the way Steve now rolled to his stomach and stuck his ass in the air with no self-consciousness. He credited his own abilities for getting Steve so worked up.

“Please please please,” Steve muttered. “If it feels like that…”

Billy, out of Steve’s sight, made the sign of the cross and kissed the pendant of his necklace, having no idea if his dick could bring it home for Harrington though he was certainly raring to give it a shot and now he sat up and crawled over to crouch behind Steve, stroking his already engorged dick on the way before rolling a condom on and drizzling a little of the lube he’d left in the sheets over Steve’s hole.

“Cold,” Steve mumbled.

“Sorry.” Billy leaned over Steve and guided himself in just a _little_ bit, stroking Steve’s sides. Steve hummed and, miraculously, pushed back so that Billy pressed in deeper. Steve was hot and tight around him and Billy squeezed his eyes shut against the threat of ejaculation before easing out and pushing back in ever so slowly and gently.

“Hmmm nice,” Steve said, as if enjoying the view on a pleasure cruise.

Billy grimaced and pulled out again and thrust in with a little more force, the resulting gasp and lack of an “ow” urging him on. He was on his third thrust when Steve cried out rather ambiguous.

“Fuck! Sorry! Did I hurt you?” Billy blurted.

“No no nono fuck that’s good, fuck,” Steve babbled and Billy tried it again, apparently hitting the correct spot which he was fairly certain was some gift from the gods of prostates and other designated saints of sex as he’d not had _as_ much experience topping as he’d perhaps let on.

Billy came inside Steve with little warning, and had hardly come to his senses again before he rolled Steve over and crouched down to suck him off, petrified at the notion of Steve not coming. Steve was only half hard now but he flailed, practically levitating off the bed at the touch of Billy’s lips on his cock and he quickly swelled under the care of Billy’s tongue. Billy raised his eyes and kept his gaze on Steve and, curious if he could pull it off, plunged his hooked fingers back in and- 

“OH JESUS HOLY SHIT OH FUCK BILLY!”

Steve’s big dick was hitting the back of his throat soon enough as Billy went at the magical button that was now making tears stream down Steve’s face and then hot cum was flooding his throat and Billy coughed as Steve moaned, mumbling an apology as he shuddered in the sheets.

Afterwards they smoked and Steve sat up in bed, naked and cross-legged, his softened cock pink and sated in his lap. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” Steve said, looking a little mischievous. “When you were fucking me?”

“Hmmm?” Billy lay on his back, one arm behind his bed, as he sucked on a smoke. “Whassat?”

“I was thinking of fucking you just the way you were fucking me,” Steve said with wonder. “Made it _so_ hot.”

Billy blinked at him as he exhaled a plume of smoke. “You were fantasizing about fucking me while I was fucking you?”

“Yeah. Is that...bad?”

“That’s like the hottest shit I’ve ever heard in my life, Harrington.”

Steve beamed at him and Billy’s heart threatened to leap from his chest. “Well, I’m pretty hot,” Steve said.

* * *

Three weeks later, Billy was riding Steve for the second time in a night. Steve’s cock was magic, Billy was sure. Billy came and saw stars and only then did Steve come. Steve was a quick learner, Billy had discovered. They barely came down before Steve was walking out the door.

Billy had a paper due, was slightly behind, which for him meant his average had slipped to a straight B. Concentrating on his studies was difficult with the advent of Steve Harrington who was definitely not dating him. It had not come up again. Steve didn’t even visit Caligari's anymore like he had at first, except to stop by and pick up a mocha to go and make plans to bone later. At Steve’s place they talked a bit before or just after, but then Steve got quiet and stiff and Billy assumed he’d been right all along and Steve had lost any interest in him beyond sex.

Why he cared, Billy didn’t know and it drove him to distraction. He was having great sex with a gorgeous boy who wanted nothing else from him. He should have been happy, ecstatic even.

But Steve had never _held_ him and never kissed him goodbye at the door and Billy found himself fantasizing about such things rather than fantasizing about sex because, after all, he was getting plenty of that.

He’d gotten baked with Byers a few days ago and once high, Byers had started rambling about what a good boyfriend Steve was from what he could tell; Mr. Romance. When Steve fell in love, he fell hard. He doted, he made with the heavy PDA, he gave lavish gifts. He was the very picture of devotion.

Billy’s heart ached.

He said nothing, figuring he’d already lost his shot. He tried to be happy with what he had.

“Why’re you telling me this?” He finally snapped at Byers, his aggravation breaking through the weed. “What do I care? We’re just boning. It doesn’t mean shit.”

“‘Cause you’re in love with Steve,” Jonathan said, ever so casually. Like it was nothing. “You should tell him.”

“Fuck you, Byers,” Billy said, before blowing out of the dorm.

* * *

It was the day before Valentine’s Day. Caligari's was strewn with red streamers, glittery hearts everywhere. Billy watched all the happy couples canoodle in the coffee shop as he brewed up some espresso. He missed Steve, who he had only seen for a quick blow-job that morning.

He was thinking of telling Steve he wanted to end things. It hurt too much to have him and not have him. 

He was getting good sex on the regular and he was considering throwing it away.

He was sure he was losing his mind.

_Cause you’re in love with Steve_ , Byers voice said in his head.

Like magic, Steve appeared in the coffee shop. Steve was chewing on his lips, leaning on the counter. He was wearing one of his stupid bright white t-shirts with a terrible pair of jeans again. His hair was especially floppy. Billy wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go. Instead he sulked and wiped down the counters.

“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day,” Steve announced. 

“Yeah,” Billy said flatly.

“I thought maybe we could…” He seemed hesitant to finish his sentence. Billy filled it in inwardly; fuck at my place, fuck in your dorm, fuck in a car, fuck in a bar, fuck in a moat, fuck in a boat…

“Whatever,” Billy murmured.

Steve seemed mildly upset but Billy wasn’t really paying attention because it hurt too much. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re busy,” Steve said weakly.

“I have a paper due,” Billy said. “And I have to go to the library to finish it. Takes me longer. Gotta wait for a computer.”

“Do you have it on a floppy?”

“Obviously.”

“You can use my computer?”

“You have an Apple. It’s a PC floppy.”

“Oh.

“Raincheck,” Billy said shrugging. He should end things, he knew. But he also know he wouldn’t. Because half a Steve was so much better than no Steve at all.

Steve left the coffee shop and Billy didn’t hear from him again until the next day which was Valentine’s Day.

Billy had a shift at Caligari's and in between customers he had to read Calvino, Calvino being preferable to seeing all those goddamn happy couples flaunting everything that Billy didn’t deserve and would never have. He was grumpy all day and after work he had to go back to his dorm and try to finish his stupid paper that he might’ve been interested in before except that Steve Harrington didn’t love him so nothing was interesting at all.

 

When Billy got to his dorm there was a shiny new IBM computer sitting on his desk.

There was a shiny new mouse sitting on an ACDC themed mouse pad. Billy hadn’t even known such a thing existed.

Billy was so busy staring at the fancy computer sitting on _his_ desk as if dropped by a friendly genie, that he didn’t see Steve who was sitting on his bed, hugging his knees, looking up at him with apprehensive doe eyes.

“Hey,” Steve said softly.

“Hi…” Billy said, feeling as if the world had flipped on its head. He felt he must be missing something. Like maybe Steve had just brought the computer for himself and...needed to keep it somewhere temporarily? “What’s going on, Steve?”

Steve cleared his throat, rising to his feet, standing back from Billy as if afraid Billy might get really pissed any second. “You said you needed a computer!” Steve blurted. “So…” He gestured towards the computer. “Here ya go. I got this for you. It’s really not a big deal.” 

Steve looked absolutely terrified. Billy’s heart pounded painfully in his chest at the implications of the IBM on his desk.”You bought me a computer,” Billy said. He wandered over to the desk slowly as if the thing might disappear any moment.

Steve bounced on his toes and seemed to psych himself up for a moment before saying, “It’s just that you work really hard and you worked so hard to get here. You deserve it and it would make it easier for you. Plus it’ll save time and then…” He swallowed, looking away from Billy. “And then you can hang out with me more? I mean if you wanted to. Outside of like… It’s just…”

He sounded so tender as if Billy were about to hurt him. “Steve-”

“It’s just that I love you,” Steve said, so quiet Billy nearly missed it. “And I know you said you don’t do boyfriends and I accept that. Alright? But if it’s not too weird for you, I just thought you should know.”

Billy’s head spun.

_It’s just that I love you_. That’s all. No big deal. Billy swallowed, tears pricking his eyes.

He wanted and he _wanted_ but he felt that nameless, messy fear choking him. “I-”

The phone on his desk rang and Billy jumped and picked it up, glowering, and snapped into the receiver, “ _What_!”

His step-sister Max said, “Holy shit, I’m just saying hi! Geez.”

Billy stared at Steve and said, “I’m busy, Max.”

“Doing what?”

Billy had told Max about Steve. Max had told Billy he was being stupid. Now Billy said, “Steve is here.”

“Oh!” Max said. “You sound really weird. What’s going on?”

Billy kept his eyes on Steve’s. Steve was just standing there, waiting for him. Just breathing and sticking his hands in his pockets like he had all day. Like buying some snarky, asshole, blonde, metalhead barista a brand new computer because he’d fallen in love wasn’t super bananas romantic and nuts all at the same time. “Max,” Billy said, and his voice shook. “Do you remember what you told me at Christmas?”

“Uhhhh… That _Best of Both Worlds Parts 1_ and _2_  is a better movie than _Generations_?”

“Not about _Star Trek_ , dumbass.”

“Remind me,” Max said, but she said it like she already knew.

“You said that...I’m a good guy. And a pretty good brother,” Billy said quietly, feeling as if he was ripping of a painful Band-Aid. He was not used to being so sincere about anything for more than half a second.“And you said I deserve a cute boyfriend who’s nice to me.”

He saw a smile sweet as sugar began to grow on Steve’s face and thought to himself he wanted to be the cause of it everyday if he could manage it. 

“Is Steve your cute boyfriend who’s nice to you?” Max said.

Billy almost answered “yes” and instead, for Steve’s benefit, he said, “I think Steve is my cute boyfriend who’s nice to me. I’m gonna hang up and kiss him now.”

“Okay but-”

Billy hung up the phone and Steve went to him. “Max sounds nice.”

“She’s a brat.”

“Gives good advice though,” Steve said.

Billy shrugged at that and Steve leaned forward just enough to brush Billy’s lips with his. Billy took Steve’s hands in his own, playing with his fingers. It was strange, he thought, how much he felt as if Steve were about to kiss him for the first time after everything they’d done together already.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” Billy said, nerves dancing in his fingertips and his belly and his head.

Steve nodded and whispered, “Well, in a couple seconds, you won’t be able to say that anymore,” and kissed him.

Billy wondered if he would be forced to listen to Hootie now and watch _Melrose Place_ and found he didn’t care and that it must mean he was horribly in love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” Billy said, and kissed his boyfriend again.


End file.
